


Maps

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Depression, Ice cream!, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3745624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's New Year. And maybe you can't take this anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maps

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://graffitidec-fic.livejournal.com/67983.html#cutid1)

Brad takes his wedding ring off when you ask him to. Second best isn’t so bad but you don’t want to see it, glinting in the dark like a shackle. Don’t want to feel it when he laces his fingers with yours, pushing your arms above your head as he fucks you slowly.

It’s New Year when he calls you up and says, “I’m coming to get you.”

And for a moment you look around your empty apartment with your cheap furniture and your fifty dollar TV and you think – finally, he’s going to save me from this life of nothing.

But then in the background his wife goes, “Brad? Brad the countdown show is on TV.”

So you hang up. But you still go and wait on the porch for him, anyway.

He pulls up not five minutes later. It must be nearly midnight but you don’t care. A new year is a new year. Another day of being underpaid and a whole load of other things with a negative prefix. Fireworks explode in the sky as the car pulls away from the kerb. You stare out of the window and say nothing.

“I just couldn’t be there with her.” Brad says eventually.

You wind down your window to drown him out. The thunderous bangs are muffled by the clouds above but still, it’s amazing to see. The night air is warm as you let your arm hang out of the window to tap an empty beat on the car door.

The beach is where you end up. You climb out of the car before Brad even kills the engine and you walk down to the sand, kick off your shoes and socks as you head to the water. The fireworks look spectacular from here, and as Brad comes to stand beside you it’s easy to pretend he isn’t married. That you’re not trapped here. Just because you fell in love.

“Why are we here?” You ask just as the fireworks come to an end. The world holds its breath for a second, the sky quiet and empty and beautiful.

Then another explosion and a burst of colour and Brad saying, “I told you. I needed to get away. Told her you were having a rough time.”

“Thanks.” You mutter.

“She knows you’re sad. Who doesn’t?”

Something about this…you couldn’t feel any more pathetic. Probably it’s written all over your face and Brad sighs, annoyed.

“Look. I brought you here so we could have a good time.”

“Is that all you ever want from me?”

He rolls his eyes, “What are you, new?”

All at once – you’re way too tired for this bullshit. 

You take a deep breath and head back to where your shoes are, grabbing them and slowly walking along the beach. Brad is calling after you “Hey wait!” And, “Ches, what the fuck?”

Without turning to face him you say, “I want to be on my own.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“What are you,” you say, still making your way down the beach toward nothing in particular, “new?”

When you look back he fiddling with his wedding ring, pulling it off his finger and holding it in his fist. You turn away and keep walking, not saying it’s too late for that, but he understands anyway.

He stops following you then. And inside you ache the way you do when he leaves you. But maybe this time you’ll learn to live with that. Maybe this time you won’t go home and drink yourself stupid. Maybe this time things will be different.

Maybe this time you can save yourself.

Probably not permanently.

But still, for now, it’s off to the twenty-four hour café to buy a scoop of ice-cream for your hero.


End file.
